For all the Truly Single Moms
As I sit down to write this post I want to be extremely clear who I am writing if for. This is for all the SINGLE moms on Mother’s Day. If you are a mom, that does not automatically mean you qualify. If you are an unmarried mom living with a boyfriend or if you have a man or someone else who supports you, you do not qualify.
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No, this post is for the truly SINGLE moms, the ones who do it ALL. The ones WITHOUT any or minimal support, the ones working their butts off at dead end jobs to put food on the table and clothes on their kiddos’ backs. The moms who are up all night with a breastfeeding baby, who packs lunches, gets their other kids dressed, drive them to school, and THEN goes to work.
The ones who get to work as a server, only to have customers judge her for being AT WORK instead of home with her kids. The moms who are running themselves ragged serving customers only to get stiffed by a couple of tables who mutter how slow the waitress is. They don’t realize she’s running on no sleep and the free coffee she gets at work.
This is written for the single mom working all day taking care of other people’s kids and wishing they were her own. This is for the mom who endures the judging eyes of people in line behind her as she swipes her EBT card. They don’t know that without the government’s help, she and the kids would truly starve.
This is for the mom who’s afraid to open up the water and the electric bill when it comes in. It seems no matter how much she tries to conserve energy the bills keep going up and up. And little Braden wanted a slip and slide for his birthday so of course that means the water bill is going to be outrageous.
This is for the single mom who absolutely HATES Christmas. For the mom that cries in the dressing rooms at Target or the bathrooms at Walmart because she simply cannot afford to give her kids a Christmas. This is for the mom that signs up for Toys for Tots and then feels the burning shame as she picks up the FREE gifts.
This is the mom that ENDURES that shame because all that matters is her KIDS. This is for the mom that witnesses her kids’ joy on Christmas morning while she drinks her cup of coffee from Starbucks. Her gift to herself for Christmas and she feels bad about splurging. For the mom who takes terrible pics on her outdated phone and blinks back the tears because the family pics are missing that one person.
This is for the mom who looks at her beautiful kids, who listens to their cute jokes, and who marvels at how fast they growing. This is for the mom who cannot believe the father can walk away from these innocents. This is for the mom whose heart is torn to pieces because she knows Daddy will never been involved. This is for the Mom whose kids will never know or want to know their sperm donor. This is for the Mom whose kids are BETTER without their dad.
This is for the mom who is trying extremely hard to make a great life for her kids. She doesn’t want her kids to grow up like she did. And so she’s working 2, even 3 jobs, around a stringent college schedule. The learning is so hard, her heads hurts from all the caffeine, and she just doesn’t fit in with all her classmates. Most of them are partying and talking about dorm life; most of them are living on parental support.
Meanwhile she’s freaking out over that parking fee she got from parking in the wrong spot because she was LATE again to class and she needs that A. Yes, it’s only $10 but what a lot of things she can get with that money. She doesn’t even spend $10 on detergent, she gets the $1 bottles from Dollar Tree.
In fact, she’s a huge supporter of that place. It’s the only place where she feels a little bit normal. Where she’s on the same plain as everyone else and no one gives her a second glance. And so she sits in class under the judging eyes of her peers, most of who will never get to know her or even speak to her voluntarily. Because she’s different.
For the Moms Who Didn’t Choose This Life
You see she’s always been different. Growing up she’s never fit in. She never knew what it was to have a Mom love her or a Daddy actively involved in her life. Perhaps she had parents, who saw her simply as another mouth to feed and another hand to help around the house. Or perhaps, Mommy was strung up on drugs in an alley somewhere and she had a grandma, aunt, or cousin who were stuck with raising her.
Maybe her entire family sucked so much, she was given away like a bag of leftovers to the state. Perhaps she was raised by a foster mom who kept her only to collect a check.
But she didn’t have what she truly craved for. LOVE. This is for the mom that as a child worked hard at school. She was a straight A student or she tried her best at what she did. This is for that child who thought that just maybe she would receive LOVE if she worked hard enough, that she would be praised for her efforts.
This is for that child that never got that feedback she wanted, that never got that tight hug and that whisper “I’m so proud of you!” This is for the child whose birthdays were just another day, who every year fantasized about having the best birthday ever. This is for that child whose birthdays usually ended up being the worst day of that year.
This is for that child whose father promised that he would come and see her. “Next weekend you can come and we will go bowling, ok?” This is for that child who had promises broken again and again. This is for that child who no longer believes. This is for that child whose heart no longer exists.
In its place is a solid lump of hate, shame, and self-loathing.
This is for that child who never learned how to dress correctly or arrange her hair attractively, because no one took time to teach her. This is for the child that had natural talent but her parents never encouraged it or supported her in any way. This is for the child that had hopes and wishes and dreams that were never revealed to anyone.
This is for that child that no longer dreams.
This is for that child who slaved away as a second mom to her siblings without any acknowledgement. This is for that child who was told any trouble was her fault because she was the oldest. This is for that child who was bounced around from foster home to foster home because she was just so BAD.
This is for the child that washed dishes for hours to hours on end until her shoulders ached, her back hurt, and her feet were swollen. This is for the child that folded mounds and mounds of laundry created by 8 people in the family. This is for the child whose hard work was destroyed in minutes by her uncaring siblings.
This is for the child who cried because she didn’t have her own personal space. This is for the child who was so incredibly jealous of the posters that decorated her friend’s walls. This was for the child that stared wistfully at the Nintendo game her classmate was playing. This is for the child that never had anything personalized or special little lunches and notes.
This is for that child who was molested by a close family friend, but was too ashamed to tell her mother. This is for that 6 year old child who truly believed her mother wouldn’t care or understand. This is for the child who finally told her mother years later only to hear, “Why didn’t you tell us sooner, now we can’t do anything about it.”
This is for the child who grew up and at the first opportunity she ran away from home.
For the Moms Who Didn’t Want to Be a Mom
This is for the child, now woman, who dived nosefirst into the troubles of teenagehood without knowing how to swim. This is for the woman who experienced rejection after rejection as she tried to make friends. This is for the young woman excluded from cliques because her family was poor and her clothes terrible.
This is for the young woman thrown out of church because her hardened heart no longer believed in the existence of a God who could be so cruel. This is for the young woman who blushed at any young man’s attention, and didn’t know what to do with the emotions she felt.
This is for that young woman who believed everything the first young man told her, who went innocently into a relationship thinking he had the same morals as her. This is for that young woman who couldn’t believe someone actually like her enough to be seen with her. This is for that young woman who was cruelly taken advantage of by that first young man.
This is for that young woman who gave herself so easily away, because her innocence had been robbed as child. This is for that young woman who feels dirty and unworthy.
This is for that young woman who now more desperate than ever learned how to party and tried to be fun. This is for that young woman who thought this was the only way to receive love. She had learned only cool people deserve love.
This is for that young woman who gave herself away again and again because she had learned that’s what men wanted. This is for that young woman who believed LOVE was SEX.
This is for that young woman who believed him when he said he loved her. This is for that young woman who never learned about how to protect herself from a young man’s advances
This is for that young woman whose world came crashing down when she found out she was pregnant and her lover vanished. This is for that young woman whose baby’s daddy never looked back or claimed ownership of their child.
This is For You
If you have met the criteria above, here is my message to you. I want you to know that I SEE YOU. I know you’re sitting at home on Mother’s Day crying as your FB friends keep posting pictures of their wonderful gifts.
I know you will scream if you see one more #besthubsever and #thismanthough#lovehimforlife#soblessed. Because no one is telling you Happy Mother’s Day, no one is making sure you are getting pampered, no one is taking you out for lunch.
Instead, if you are clinging to that homemade card your 5 year old brought home from school. She doesn’t know how much it hurts you to recieve it, knowing it will be the only gift you will get. She doesn’t know how much you hate her sperm donor on Mother’s Day.
I SEE YOU.
Girlfriend, if you have somehow stumbled onto this post, there is a REASON you are here. It is because YOU NEEDED this message and YES I AM TALKING TO YOU.
I want you to know I see you. I see you walking through Krogers trying to use those coupons you clipped late last night. I see you putting up with your toddler’s fit because you can’t buy that useless and expensive toy she wants. I feel the stares on your back as you hand the cashier your WIC checks, I hear her annoyed sigh.
I see the puzzled look on the teacher’s face when you show up for your PTA conference alone. I hear the questioning in her voice, and I feel the embarassment as you try to exert that your kid is not suffering.
I feel your guilt as you fill out the family tree project for school. I feel your pain when you have to explain to your kids’ teacher that there is no one coming to Bring Your Dad to school day. I hear your cries as you hide in your room because you feel so bad for your child.
I see you standing there in your Walmart yoga pants and your Dollar General Tshirt while Hipster Mom and Barbie Mom jog in place with their Iphone Bands. I feel their silent judgment because you aren’t using a BOB stroller and you’re carrying your baby on your God-given hips instead of in a BABY TULA.
They don’t realize you are looking at them and thinking how you could pay the rent from the money they spent on one outfit.
I see you lose pieces of your heart as your friends who partied with you slowly stop calling. Because even though they are doing EXACTLY the same thing as you, they weren’t stupid enough to get pregnant.
I hear the pleading in your voice, feel the tears you choke back, as you beg your family to help out with babysitting. I feel the rejection from your siblings and hear the sneering “You wanted this, it’s all your fault,” in their replies.
I see you finally graduating and walking proudly down the aisle to get your diploma. I see you graduating summa cum laude, with highest honors. I see you crying as you realize none of your friends have to come celebrate.
I SEE YOU.
I see that you are the most wonderful Mommy in the entire world. I see your kid’s face light up as you walk into the room. I feel their chubby hands wrapped tightly around your neck, I see the sticky trails of goo that they leave wherever they go.
I see a happy home where your babies are fed. I see tickles and laughter, and the tooth fairy visiting. I see the homemade lunches at the park and the 50 million paintings stuck on the fridge. I see your Google account out of space from all the memories you’ve stored.
I see a Mom that has risen above what life has given her. I see a WOMAN That is SUPER STRONG, COURAGEOUS, and BRAVE. I see a WOMAN who is HONEST. I SEE A WOMAN WHO HAS CHOSEN LIFE.
I see a Mommy who FELL IN LOVE for the 1st time when she saw her baby’s face. I see a Mom whose child saved her. I see a WOMAN WHO NOW UNDERSTANDS LOVE.
I see a WOMAN who practices INTENTIONAL MOMMYHOOD. I see a Mommy who teaches her son how to treat a woman right, who goes on little dates with her kids, who goes out of her way to say “I love you,” and “Good job, I’m so proud of you!”
I SEE A WOMAN WHO CAN CHANGE THE WORLD.
I SEE YOU.
And as a former single mom of 5 years, I want to say “Thank you.” Thank you for fighting back against the norm and winning. Thank you for raising socially conscientous children who are making our world better. Thank you for giving your children TIME over MONEY.
THANK you for not aborting your child or giving them away. Thank you for choosing the hard way. Thank you for teaching them what LOVE truly is.
Thank you for rising above.
I may not know you personally, but I say this as if I do and you are standing in front of me, “I love you so much, and I am very, very proud of you! Good job Momma!”
With hugs & kisses, and many, many Mother’s Day wishes!!!!,
Sincerely, Mrs. G
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